Memorial Day
by nothing-chan
Summary: AU. In between all of the gunfire, pained screams, and falling men, Alfred F. Jones picks up a pen and writes a letter starting with, Dear Arthur.


_(see end for author's notes)_

* * *

_Dear Arthur,_

* * *

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a superhero! So I can protect everyone! Especially Arthur!" Alfred F. Jones smiled wide as the young class burst into giggles while Arthur Kirkland broke into a mad blush at the back of the room. The teacher smiled and shook her head, placing a thin hand on the small boy's back.

"Is that really what you want to be when you grow up Alfred? A superhero?" Alfred looked up at the young lady as if she were asking what came after the number one.

"Well duh! Isn't that what I just said?" He asked sassily and the teacher sighed, guiding him back to his seat.

"Alright Mr. Hero, good job," Alfred beamed widely and plopped into his seat next to a young British boy.

"Alfred, you're dumb," Arthur said, still a bit red in the face. The wheat haired boy blinked in a hurt way and clutched his colorful superhero drawing to his chest.

"No way! I'm going to be the biggest hero in the whole universe! You'll see! And I'll save you from the bad guys Arthur, I promise!" Alfred stuck out his chubby pinky and waited for Arthur to do the same. The blonde boy glanced up from looking at his desk and stared at the extended digit in curiosity.

"You… promise?" Arthur asked, turning to face the tan boy. Alfred nodded ecstatically, his cowlick bouncing along with him. The British boy focused back on the small finger and shakily extended his own, interlacing them slowly.

"It's a promise."

* * *

_I wish I had more time to write, I would have written it on that stationary you mailed me a few weeks ago! It smelled like old books you know, kinda like you. Wait that's weird. Anyway, I hope this gets to you; I'll be pretty upset if it doesn't! I'm about to do something really stupid and I feel like this is just me procrastinating it, so I have to write fast._

* * *

Alfred froze from taking a bite of his sugary cereal as he heard a crash from somewhere in the basement. The boy looked around the barren kitchen, searching for someone to ask if they had just heard the noise as well. Unfortunately, no one was around and he was left to wonder by himself.

Despite being in a house that was not his own, Alfred decided to explore the noise. He jumped out of the chair he was seated in and sped toward the basement door. His feet skidded to a slippery stop just outside the door, his eyes shining deviously. The boy placed his hand on the doorknob and looked around quickly, hoping no one was watching him snoop around. Satisfied with the emptiness of the room, Alfred turned the knob and dashed down the stairs, not even thinking twice at the loud noises he was making. Alfred glanced around the artificially lit basement with an excited smile before his ocean blue eyes landed on Arthur sitting in the middle of the room.

"What are you doing here? Who told you you could come down here? Get out!" Arthur's large father bellowed his hand lifted menacingly in the air. Alfred disobeyed, glancing between his best friend crumpled on the floor and the terrifying man in front of him. Arthur pressed his pale hand harder against his bright red cheek, tears streaming out of his green eyes.

"Y…You hit Arthur?" Alfred questioned, barely above a whisper, disbelief across his small features. The old man narrowed his beady green eyes, disgustingly alike to Arthur's.

"Alfred, please just go home…" The small British boy began to say but was interrupted by his volatile father.

"Don't speak unless I tell you!" He roared, spinning around toward his son. Alfred leaped forward as the man's hand came down in an attempt to hit Arthur. The tan boy ducked under the man's arm and grabbed Arthur, rolling away with the boy curled protectively against his body. Before the fuming man had a chance to recover, Alfred jumped up and spread his arms out, shielding the sobbing boy behind him.

"Don't you dare hit Arthur!" His chest heaved and his head spun in a mix of adrenaline and fear. "Don't you ever _ever_ touch Arthur again!" The large man watched the small hero who was barely even twelve with an astonished look on his face. They stared at each other for a long while, Arthur's sobs growing softer in the background. Soon, the blonde boy had limped to a stand and was tugging on Alfred's shirtsleeve.

"Alfred, please, let's go," Arthur begged, his voice quivering in fear. "Please!" Alfred narrowed his eyes one last time at the stunned man in front of him before turning to his bruised friend. He bent over and quickly lifted Arthur onto his back, ignoring the slight protests from the other boy. They both sped out of the house in a blur, onto the busy street, Alfred yelling for the police.

* * *

_You start to remember some crazy stuff at moments like these. It's kinda weird. I hope you never remember the bad stuff like I do. I hope you only remember the good stuff. Like how we used to play Cops & Robbers and I would sometimes let you be the Cop. Or when I forced you to go on Space Mountain when we went to Disney. I hope you still have the picture, your face was priceless!_

* * *

"…And I now present to you, the Class of 2011!" A large cheer that could most likely be heard from miles away resounded from the large group of robe-clad teens as they all threw their caps into the air. Alfred was one of the first to toss his sky-high, a loud woop escaping his mouth. Arthur watched the tall boy before removing his hat, throwing it half-heartedly into the air. Alfred watched him with a small frown, looking incredibly handsome in his deep blue robe that matched the color of his eyes very well.

"What's wrong Arthur? Aren't you happy?" Arthur bent over and retrieved his cap from the ground, dusting the dirt off slightly.

"I'm ecstatic really…" The British boy turned on his heel and began to walk out of the large crowd, Alfred following close behind like a lost puppy.

"Artie," Alfred grabbed the thin boys loose robes and pulled back, forcing Arthur to turn back around. "Don't tell me you're still upset over the whole Army thing…"

"Oh, of course I'm not upset! Why would I be upset? It's not like you're going to go risk your life or anything! How silly of me to be upset!" Arthur spat sarcastically, ripping his robe out of the taller boy's tan hand.

"I thought you'd at least support me…" Alfred sounded hurt, as if someone had just punched him straight in the gut.

"You want me to support you when you're going to get yourself killed?" Arthur threw his hands above his head in an exasperated way, unaware that people were now watching the argument unfolding. "You can't be a hero Alfred, they don't exist!" Alfred's eyes widened behind his wire framed glasses and he clenched his fists, storming away from the red-faced Brit.

"You sure about this kid? This war ain't gonna be over for a long long time," The rough recruiter asked, an eyebrow risen in an amused way.

"I know what I'm doing," Alfred said softly, signing his name on the registration form.

* * *

_Man, I'm getting really sentimental over here. I guess that's normal, but, I feel so old now. Are we old Arthur? Last time I checked we were young but, we've done so much in our lives, I feel like we belong in nursing homes! I could tell stories about the war and you could knit ugly blankets for the different kids that come and visit. That sounds kind of nice actually, to grow old with you._

* * *

"Take care of yourself,"

"You've said that three times already,"

"I know but just please take care of yourself," Arthur pressed his face closer into Alfred's chest, his gray shirt now soaking in tears. Alfred tightened his grip around the short boy and burrowed his face into Arthur's blonde mass of hair, inhaling deeply. It was not a hug that friends shared, and they both knew that, they both knew now that they would never be able to go back.

Feeling Alfred so close, Arthur wondered how he had kept control of himself for all of these years. How he told himself all of those lies that Alfred was just a 'pal' a 'bro', someone he felt only friendship for, nothing more. Arthur had denied himself Alfred for all of these years, and now when he had him, he would be gone.

The British boy attempted to cry but his whole body was drained, nothing coming out but a small squeak. Somewhere behind the two a speaker crackled "Flight 38 now boarding. Flight 38 is now boarding." Arthur heard himself gasp and he clung tighter to Alfred as if he were his only lifeline, Alfred squeezing back equally as hard.

"Please… please…" The blonde begged, his nails digging into the heavy jacket draped over Alfred's back.

"I have to Artie," The blue eyed boy ran a hand down the back of Arthur's head, smoothing out the frazzled locks.

"No, no you don't! You can stay! We can run away and you can stay!" Arthur felt new tears spring up, dribbling out slowly from his green eyes.

"You know I can't," Alfred's voice was gruff and broken, on the verge of crying himself.

"Why did you have to do this…? Oh God why…" The green eyed boy muttered melodramatically. Alfred removed his hands from around Arthur's thin waist and pushed him back by his shoulders, staring intently at his face.

"I'm doing this to protect you Arthur, I'll finally get to be your hero," Alfred smiled in a bittersweet way, attempting to cheer up the boy he held so close. Arthur's breath hitched and he jumped forward, pressing his wet lips to Alfred's unprepared ones. Alfred kissed back greedily, wanting nothing more than to remain there all day, and to never leave Arthur alone ever again.

"Final call for Flight 38." The speaker crackled and Arthur wanted to scream against Alfred's warm lips. The wheat haired boy pulled back reluctantly and let his arms fall off Arthur's shoulders and into his hands.

"Just promise to remember me," He whispered, his eyes cast to the ground. Arthur tightened his hands around Alfred's larger ones.

"I'll write you every day," Arthur extracted one of his hands and held up his thin pinky. "I promise," Alfred looked at the finger in utter surprise.

"You promise?" He asked, raising his own pinky before wrapping it around Arthur's.

"It's a promise."

* * *

_Wow, I'm way off track aren't I? I forgot what I was originally going to say in the first place… Things are tough over here, but I think we're gonna win! In fact, I know we're going to win. The Turkish troops are pulling back and now all that's left are the Japanese. It's gonna be real hard, but I know I can do it if you keep rooting for me! You're the best cheerleader a guy could ask for Artie, now all you need is the outfit *wink*._

* * *

Alfred sat across from Gilbert, his muscles aching from a long day of training. His albino bunkmate was going on about a girl he had left behind, her picture in his rough palm.

"She had the prettiest brown hair y'know? Normally brunettes aren't anything special but man. It would shine like you wouldn't believe. And she'd always wear these little flowers in her hair, even when I told her she looked too girly and she'd get all mad," Gilbert smiled down at the picture in his hand, the pad of his thumb tracing the outline of a girls faded face. Alfred watched him with raised eyebrows, feeling a picture of Arthur curled in his palm.

"Her eyes were real green too, I remember I loved them," The German said dreamily.

"Green eyes are the best," Alfred agreed, twisting the picture in his hands through his fingers. Gilbert looked up and nodded, his eyes swimming in unusual sentimentality.

"I remember I almost lost her once," He looked back down, unable to keep his eyes off of the small picture for too long. "Said she loved some piano guy and that he treated her better… I never felt angrier in my whole life. I wanted to punch the guy straight in the face. Almost did too," Alfred chuckled along with Gilbert and waited for the boy to continue. "But I didn't, I let her go be with him. She seemed real happy with him, but he broke her heart just like I knew he would. And I was there for her when she came crying back. I promised to treat her better and she promised to not hit me with cooking utensils as often. We were gonna get married, have a big wedding on the beach with the flowers and the cake, all of it. Then I got drafted…" Gilbert traced a circle around her heart-shaped face and looked back up at Alfred.

"What about you? You got a girl? You get an awful lot of letters," He smirked and Alfred shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"Me? Nah, I don't have a girl. Just a lucky guy who too many people care about," He said and Gilbert laughed before falling back into his state of staring at the picture with a faraway look.

"I miss her a lot," Alfred furrowed his brows and the albino huffed. "I guess since you don't have a girl you wouldn't understand, but God do I miss her a hell of a lot…" Alfred glanced down at the picture in his palm, his heart twisting at the sight of Arthur sitting by a window, smiling at the camera from behind a large novel.

"No, I understand," He smiled sadly, tracing his thumb over the glossy surface. "I understand…"

* * *

_I'm running out of time over here so I guess I better hurry. I just want you to know, Arthur that you're more of a hero than you think you are. I try to pretend like I am but it's really you. Every day, when I feel like giving up, when I feel like all of this is too much, when I just want to walk in front of the enemy's guns, I think about you. I think that, even if I can't save everyone, at least I'm protecting you. And I guess that's all the assurance I need._

_So don't ever give up Arthur, and don't ever feel sad or worthless because you've saved me so much more than you can imagine._

* * *

Alfred smiled down at the letter in his hand and stood up, dust and sweat dripping off of his body.

"This is too much! We're going to have to pull back!" Lieutenant Ludwig yelled from next to him, barely audible due to the gunfire. He turned to look up at Alfred, confusion on his pale face. "What are you doing? Get back down Jones! You'll be hit!"

"There are still civilian hostages in that building!" Alfred yelled over the commotion around him.

"We've tried everything we can! There's no way we can get in and save them!" Ludwig argued, not even flinching as a man next to him fell to the ground, bleeding from his chest. Alfred held the letter out to his superior and the German looked at it in confusion.

"Jones, what are you trying to pull? Get back down!" Alfred shoved the letter even closer to Ludwig's face and the man snatched it away in annoyance.

"Make sure that gets to Arthur Kirkland, 42 East Cherry Boulevard, Apt. 3, New York, New York, 22347," Alfred picked up his gun from the dusty ground next to him and strapped it onto his body. "Can you remember that?"

"Get back down Jones! That is an order!" Ludwig yelled, realizing what Alfred was planning on doing. "I said get back-"

"Can you remember that?" Alfred demanded loudly, his voice hoarse from screaming. Ludwig looked up at him, his ice blue eyes frozen in shock. The American stared back down with a determined face, his body not wavering a bit.

"Arthur Kirkland, 42 East Cherry Boulevard, Apt. 3, New York, New York, 22347," The blonde repeated slowly and Alfred nodded.

"Thank you Lieutenant!" Alfred saluted strongly and turned around, squinting at the chaos in front of him. Ludwig shakily saluted back and watched as Alfred F. Jones, ran into the battleground before them, his form disappearing into the smoke.

* * *

_Forever yours,_

_ Alfred F. Jones_

* * *

_Happy Memorial Day to my fellow Americans! A day to honor our troops and remember those that have passed_

_Memorial Day is very important to me since I come for a military family so I wanted to write a little something for the holiday, even if it is a bit sad_

_There isn't much else to say about this, the idea came quickly and I wrote it rather fast but I suppose I like c:_

_If there are any mistakes, let me know, but other than that please review, favorite, (constructively) criticize, and enjoy your Memorial Day!_


End file.
